


A View of Baker Street

by pirateenthusiast



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:08:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateenthusiast/pseuds/pirateenthusiast
Summary: A retelling of BBC's "Sherlock" from the perspective of one Greg Lestrade. It will explore both the personal life of Lestrade as well as take an outsiders look at Sherlock and John's relationship.
Relationships: Greg Lestrade & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 4





	A View of Baker Street

They weren’t going to find anything. The drugs bust was, a bust. This was relieving to Lestrade on a personal level, though it certainly wasn’t helpful to the case. And now, he was gone. Off in a cab, according to his new- associate- John Watson. Who _was_ John Watson, Lestrade wondered. Donavon wasn’t right, not fully, in saying Sherlock didn’t have friends. He didn’t have friends in the traditional sense, and Sherlock himself might not consider himself to have friends, but they were there, however small and untraditional. 

There was Mike Stamford, who Sherlock had met on a case and hadn’t managed to get rid of since. There was Angelo, who would never hesitate to do a favor for the man. So Sherlock did have friends, sort of. Did this make John Watson a friend? 

Sherlock seemed to attract a certain sort of person, but as far as Lestrade could tell, the doctor wasn’t it. As opposed to the overly friendly, loyal sort of people that could usually be found making company of Sherlock Holmes, John Watson seemed rather unsociable. He wasn’t mean, exactly, but he also hadn’t made a shining first impression. 

So who was he, if not a friend? Lestrade didn’t have time to ponder it any longer as his phone rang. Speak of the devil. 

Sherlock was in danger.

The man had gone and got himself in a room with a serial killer. For such a clever man, Sherlock surely didn’t have many self preservation instincts. Why couldn’t he have just told Lestrade if he knew who the killer was? Damn it. 

Upon arrival, Lestrade was relieved to find that Sherlock was safe, the killer dead. Shot. Sherlock was now going on a monologue of possible traits the shooter could have. Lestrade found himself partially drowning this out. It was usually better to just wait till the end to tune back in, he found. The result was the same either way. 

Suddenly Sherlock was cutting himself off, looking at- wouldn't you know it- John Watson. 

“Actually, ignore all that; it’s just the shock talking. See? I’ve got a blanket.” Sherlock turned to walk towards the short man. 

Lestrade huffed, dismayed. “Sherlock, I’ve still got questions!” But it was futile.

  
Lestrade watched as Sherlock made his way over to the doctor and began talking. The pair walked away, heads bowed. Lestrade shook his head.  _ Who was that John Watson? _


End file.
